


a display of skills

by daisy_chains



Series: speak with honesty [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e03 The Mark of Nimueh, Gen, Magic Revealed, author is a bit of a mess in the notes but it's fine, but never posted because I got distracted, searching through folders and posting old fics I finished a year ago, this is part of something I like to call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 15:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisy_chains/pseuds/daisy_chains
Summary: Apparently, Merlin’s determination to get himself killed in Gwen’s place doesn’t end when he’s dragged out of the throne room.





	a display of skills

Apparently, Merlin’s determination to get himself killed in Gwen’s place doesn’t end when he’s dragged out of the throne room. 

“Why won’t you believe me?” Merlin asks, face unreadable. 

“Well,” Arthur says, letting the word roll on as he takes in the servant’s stiff shoulders and head held high as the boy holds himself to his full height. “Maybe because you’ve proven to have self-sacrificial tendencies and I would rather not have to train another servant quite yet.” 

“Self-sacrificial tendencies?” Merlin echoes faintly. 

“Mhm.”

The servant shakes his head, a scowl flashing across his face. 

“Fine,” he says. “You don’t believe me? Fine, I’ll prove it to you.” 

“What -”

A pillow flies across the room, returning to the bed from where he had thrown it this morning. Across the room, Merlin’s glowing eyes meet his. Slowly, cautiously, Arthur reaches for his sword. Merlin makes no move to stop him. 

“You should turn me over to your father,” the sorcerer says instead, and Arthur isn’t quite sure how to reconcile the loyal to a fault servant with the sorcerer who used magic without saying a word. “That way, Gwen won’t die for something _I_ did.” 

“The plague?” Arthur asks, because that’s more important than the life of one woman or the life of her father. He’s seen the bodies piled up, and if the sorcerer in front of him is responsible, he isn’t sure if he’ll run him through where he stands or light the pyre himself.

“Not me.” 

“Then who?” 

“I don’t know,” he says, “but I’ve been searching for the source. Gaius -”

“Does he know?” The sorcerer hesitates, which is all the answer Arthur needs. “How long has he known?”

“Since I got here,” he answers, “but please, sire, can we focus on either turning me over to your father or figuring out how to stop the plague? I refuse to let Gwen burn, and I won’t let you stop me if you’re just going to keep me here.” 

“You’re threatening me now? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“If you keep sitting there like the only thing the matter is me, then I find it hard to care.” 

Here, Arthur thinks, is where Merlin will snap, where he’ll show his true nature. Evil, dark, caring for none but himself and his power. He’s wrong.

“People are dying, and if I can’t stop it, then at the very least I’ll be able to save my best friend.” 

“Very well,” Arthur says. Later, he’ll decide what to do about the magic, will question and pry until he is satisfied. But for now, he can work with this sorcerer, this man who cares for the people dying in the streets and for his friend. “Let’s get to work.” 

⁋

Words dance across the bookpage, taunting Arthur as he rubs at his eyes. He’s been sitting here for too long, at Gaius’ worktable, flipping through book after book while Merlin ran off to see if he could find any more evidence of what could be causing the plague. 

Just as he’s about to attempt the page again, the door opens with a bang, and Merlin rushes in, panting. 

“An afanc, it’s an afanc,” he says, and Arthur all but tosses the book away, glad to be rid of it. 

“How do we stop it?” 

“Use the elements, whatever that means.” 

“Wh -”

“Anyway, we can either search through all these books _again_ to find the afanc, or we can ask Gaius.”

“I am not doing any more reading.” 

⁋

Having found Gaius with the guards tasked with moving bodies of the fallen, Arthur sends Merlin ahead of him. 

“The fewer people who know about your magic, the better, but it’s also better if no one knows _I_ know.”

“So don’t tell him?” Merlin frowns, but doesn’t protest. “Alright, then meet me near the entrance to the water supply.”

“The afanc’s down there?”

“Yeah, but don’t go in ‘till I get there, you’re not going to be able to kill it without magic.” 

Then Merlin rushes off, leaving Arthur gaping after him. 

“Well then,” Arthur says. “Right, I’ve just… got a servant who’s flaunting around magic. That’s fine.” 

⁋

In the tunnel leading to the water source, with nothing but a torch and a servant’s magic as a weapon, Arthur can’t help but be nervous. Is he really doing this, trusting magic to save Camelot? 

Merlin’s expression is grim but determined, and in the torchlight, he looks a bit like a warrior described in the stories his nursemaid told him as a child. 

“Are you sure this will work?”

“I’m never sure,” Merlin responds, “but we don’t have any other choice. It _has_ to work.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll make it work.” 

That’s the end of that, then. Arthur turns back to the path ahead, eyes scanning the shadows for any hint of the afanc. 

“This way.” Merlin tugs on his sleeve, guiding them both down another tunnel Arthur had almost missed. “Get in front of me, the fire will do the most damage, and it’s more dangerous for both of us if I’m in the way.” 

Arthur walks ahead, Merlin lingering until he is a few steps ahead of him before following. 

“It should be just up ahead.” 

No sooner does he say this, a snarling, dark mass leaps across the path. Behind him, Merlin whispers a spell beneath his breath, causing the hair on the back of Arthur’s neck to stand on end, and a bright blue ball of light floats past them both, revealing the afanc. 

It snarls again and swats at them. Arthur reels back, straight into Merlin, and would have fallen had the sorcerer not steadied him. 

“Thanks,” he mutters.

“You need to attack it with the torch.” Merlin nudges him forward, ignoring his protests. “I’ll be right here, ready to help finish it off.”

“I’ve fought many magical creatures and defeated them before, what makes this one something I need your help to defeat?”

“What makes you think you didn’t have help before?” 

Arthur hesitates. He doesn’t really have an answer for that. Fortunately, Merlin continues without expecting a response. 

“Just - hurry, it’s about to run off.”

Arthur lunges forward, waving the torch as if it was his sword. The afanc screeches when he hits it, and he fights the urge to flinch. Then Merlin shouts, summoning the light to his hand and as it disappears, a strong wind flows through the tunnel. The torch’s flame expands, blowing toward the afanc, and the creature catches fire. 

Dropping the torch, Arthur covers his ears and runs back to where Merlin stands, watching the afanc sadly. 

“What, I knew you cried over unicorns, but afancs? Creatures that kill?” 

“Creatures used by those who only wish ill on innocents will always be a tragedy,” Merlin responds, “no matter what their nature is.”

They stand there a while longer, until Arthur steps forward and breaks off a rib from the charred corpse. 

“The King will want to know we defeated the source of the plague, and we need to tell him before dawn so Gwen doesn’t burn.” 

That sends Merlin into motion. He doesn’t wait for Arthur to follow before running off, leaving him racing after the sorcerer. 

⁋

Arthur leaves Merlin outside the throne room when he goes to present his father with the afanc rib. It would do no good for the sorcerer to be in sight of the the King while the incident in the council chambers is still recent. 

The King sits upon his throne, lost in thought, when Arthur enters the room. 

“Father,” he calls. The King’s head snaps up, eyes locking on the object in Arthur’s hand. “We’ve found the source of the plague. There was a magical creature, an afanc, dwelling in the water source. It was the afanc that infected the people, not the serving maid.”

With a sigh, the King rises and approaches Arthur, taking the rib in his hand and flipping it over once, twice. 

“And what of her father? His miraculous healing?” He asks, and Arthur sighs. This is a test, one he is familiar with. A test to see if he is too close to someone below his station, if his views on magic are not what the King wishes them to be. 

“She’s obviously a scapegoat. Anyone powerful enough to control an afanc wouldn’t be foolish enough to be caught within the city, let alone healing someone. If the serving maid was executed as the source of the plague, the true sorcerer could go on unimpeded.” 

“Very well,” the King says, nodding at a guard standing next to the door. “Release her.”

“I’ll inform Morgana,” Arthur adds, making his exit, though the King’s voice halts him midstep.

“You did well today.” 

Arthur nods, glancing over his shoulder. “Thank you, Father.” 

With that, he slips out the door and begins walking back to his chambers. Merlin falls into step at his shoulder, not saying a word until they reach their destination. The instant the doors shut behind them, the sorcerer turns to Arthur with a confused frown.

“What did you tell him?”

“That the afanc is dead,” Arthur responds, dropping into the chair at the head of his table. “What else was I meant to tell him?” 

Despite the exhaustion that comes with the aftermath of both physical and mental battles dragging him toward sleep, the Prince can’t help but find amusement in how Merlin flounders. 

“What else were you -?” Arms waving wildly in the air, the sorcerer makes a sound that’s half-growl, half-squeak. “I don’t know, maybe that your servant is a big bad sorcerer?”

“Don’t you think you would have been arrested by now if I had told him that?” 

Scoffing, Merlin turns so his back is mostly to Arthur. “Well, _excuse me_ if I wanted to know for sure if I’m to be executed at some point in the near future.” 

Arthur sighs, then says, “I didn’t tell him.”

“Starting to figure that out.” Merlin shifts to face him a bit more. “What _are_ you going to do with me?” 

“Haven’t decided yet.” Pausing, he watches the sorcerer. Merlin’s trembling, barely enough for him to notice, and he wonders if perhaps being turned away is less about refusing to look at Arthur and more about hiding his own face. “I trust you.” 

The trembling stills, but tension still lines every inch of his frame. 

“Against my better judgement, I trust you. Which means I trust you not to turn around and start killing people at random.” 

“I would never,” Merlin breathes. 

“I know.” 

Slowly, the sorcerer turns fully and meets the Prince’s gaze. The sorcerer nods once, lips pressed in a thin line. 

“Good.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl when I wrote this I completely forgot how early in the show this was, so if Arthur trusting Merlin as much as he does despite knowing about his magic seems a bit out of character, I apologize. I only realized it when tagging the episode and I don't really feel like going back and changing anything.
> 
> Edit 6/2/2019: So it just clicked for me that this is 1x03... which means... the unicorn incident Arthur references hasn't actually happened yet... so let's just throw canon out the window a bit more and say the unicorn incident happened much much earlier or there was a unicorn that died due to reasons unrelated to a certain prat because, again, this is finished and I don't want to go back and mess with it too much.


End file.
